Ahkabal-Ná 2100: Myths and Legends from Petalcingco, Chiapas, Mexico

By Pablo Hernández Encino

AHKABAL-N 2100
Myths and Legends from
Petalcingo, Chiapas, Mexico
This is a trip to the land of myths and legends. The dreams and feelings of the antique Tzeltal people that became the most fascinating and crazy adventure in the unbelievable world of seor Tatic Mamal and his daughter, Goddess Shjinula. An infinite space where time was non existent, where hunger and coldness were
never felt.
Shall all Tzeltals become Cashlans one day? Who knows
if that could happen one day! But these gods have promised them that they will

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palibrio
• Release date: Oct 10, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463309893

Pablo Hernández Encino

Pablo es el último tkajol que lucha por mantener viva su cultura y origen Pablo es un humilde campesino e in¬dígena tzeltal originario de Petalcin¬go, Chiapas, México. Nació el 17 de octubre de 1943. Su signo zodiacal es Libra, y es el mayor de los nueve her¬manos, hijos de don Diego y de doña Anita Encino Cruz, ambos ya finados a la fecha. Su lengua materna es el tzel¬tal y su vital alimento es el posol. Pablo empezó a hablar el castellano a la edad de 12 años cuando él mismo se presentó a la escuela por primera vez y no entendía nada lo que le preguntaba su primer maestro. Anteriormente sus padres no lo enviaban a la escuela, pri¬mero: porque no era obligatorio para los niños indígenas asistir a la escuela; y la otra, por ignorancia. Su original vestuario era hecho de tela de manta blanca que su propia madre le hacía. Eran calzones sin cierres ni bolsas, y en vez de cinto era una tirita de la misma tela que amarraba en la cintura para que no se cayeran. Pablo, el último “tkajol”. Tkajol o tkajoles es un apodo que alguien les puso por ser campesinos piscadores de maíz, o porque los veían muy ton¬tos. A ciencia cierta, nadie sabe el sig¬nificado. Pablo escribe su historia, escribe su memoria, es¬cribe su pensa¬miento, escribe los relatos de sus abuelos, escribe sus sue¬ños y su viven¬cia infantil. Vive su propio mundo de fan¬tasía y se sien¬te privilegiado y heredero de sus antepasa¬dos. Escribe su pasión por la ficción. Crear y dialogar con sus propios personajes y nombrarlos a cada uno de ellos en su propio dialecto es su debilidad y entretenimiento. Sus per¬sonajes son tan reales que ellos hablan y actúan con un extraordinario sentido de humor, transparencia y profundo mensa¬je. Pablo ha escrito una excitante serie de cuatro libros titulados “Ahkabal-ná 2100”, que narra una apasionante y loca aventu¬ra en el mundo insólito de Tatic Mamal, la diosa Shínula y Shánhuinic, el hombre serpiente, que hoy se complace en com¬partir con el público lector.

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Copyright © 2011 by Pablo Hernandez Encino.

Library of Congress Control Number:         2011915674

ISBN:               Softcover                  978-1-4633-0990-9

                         Ebook                     978-1-4633-0989-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Palibrio

1663 Liberty Drive

Suite 200

Bloomington, IN 47403

Tel [phone]

Fax: [phone]

[e-mail]

354638

Creation, illustration and cover design

by Pablo Hernandez Encino.

Translated by Fortunato Brown,

Peruvian writer and linguist

INDEX

1. The Ghost Priest

2. Lightnings Against Lightnings

3. The Playful Skeletons

4. Goddess Shinula

5. Tatic Mamal And His Daughter

6. Master Tatic Mamal

7. Amber Collecting And The Laughing Deaths In The Region Of The Goblins

8. The Foreigners

9. The Disappearance Of Shtuh At The Cascade Of Shayantz

10. The Prayer Of The Tzeltals

11. Nicolas And The Wounded Snake

Endnotes:

INTRODUCTION

This is a story about everything that happened a great many, many years ago, when the beautiful city of Petalcingo, in Chiapas, Mexico, my birthplace, was only a small village with very few inhabitants, maybe when my grandparents were not yet born.

This village was at that time inhabited by more or less sixty per cent of indigenous Tzeltal people and the rest by Cashlan people. There still are some Cashlans living in Petalcingo, but not with the same potency as it used to be in those old days of yore.

In those old days, they used to be the only business people who abused the people freely, and we were their only customers. They learned to speak in our dialect so as to be able to communicate with us, as we could not speak Spanish. In those old days it was not obligatory that Tzeltal children should go to school, as it is nowadays. Cashlan in our Tzeltal language means mestizo or half-caste, and Shinula means a woman of mixed caste.

I am not a historian nor an anthropologist; so I can only tell you that this community was founded in the colonial days, as many other communities were, and therefore, its church, its covered bridge, which should be maintained as a precious treasure left to us by our forebears, but is unfortunately not. Its old city hall where the gossip mongers and chicken thieves were locked up and where naturally the murderous Cashlans, Raul Estrada and Armando Herrera were kept only for a few hours. The village of Petalcingo was the proud site of very important cultural events organized in the unique native manner of the Tzeltals of this land.

The beautiful Tzeltal women wore their typical blouses richly embroidered by themselves in colors contrasting with their brunette skin tanned by the radiant Sun. Their head was adorned by a bun of colored laces. Their beauty was always present in the various festivities carried out year after year. I had the opportunity of enjoying these traditional celebrations. However, I could not see the prayers and appeals made to the other gods, but I could live as a child the latest part of those times, and it seems to me it was only yesterday when I was enjoying among the multitude of participants of those public celebrations such as Carnivals, Day of the Deceased, Day of the Holy Patron of our village, the marriages and celebrations of other saints that are present at this church. Such festivities with their traditional posh 1, that inseparable number one complement, the rum, which under no circumstances could be absent from the festivities.

The tales told by my grandparents and by other elders; the apparitions they talked about so often; the many sorcerers and witches that had taken the form of beasts and against which you frequently run unto at night in the dark streets of town. The invocations they frequently made to the so called Senor Tatic Mamal and to his daughter, Goddess Shinula. These beings were adored as gods by the Tzeltals who prayed wishing to be converted into Cashlans and Shinulas. They talked a lot about the goblins, about the ghost priest, about the Ahkabal-na, house of Senor Tatic Mamal, with its golden roots that made the earth tremble every time he moved around. The Shayantz cascade, the talking cats, the snakes with legs, and which could be seen by deaf-mute children. The much spoken of playful skeletons and the old book, there were so many tales about this legend, that I honestly miss the old days of my infancy. Those wonderful years I was so lucky to live. My vivencies, my experiences as a child and so many other things. In spite of the inequities in rights existing between Cashlans and Tzeltals, I enjoyed it a lot in my own way.

Petalcingo in its old times was not only known as the central place of great magnificent cultural events; it was also the well known central quarters of many great famous medical sorcerers, lightnings fighting against lightnings and sorcerers assassinated.

Petalcingo, years 2000-2010. Everything is different now! I would like to listen to them, only if they could talk, all those places they occupied, where they carried out their rites and ceremonies.

The nostalgic and dying away voice of my home town has been little by little dimming out as time goes by. Blessed be the land I was born in! I have so many remembrances from my home town! So many remembrances from my people! Those remembrances keep coming to my mind all the time and crowd my thoughts with images of days gone by long ago. It seems that it was only today or yesterday when I was walking barefooted in those muddy streets, when I could speak only my mother tongue, as I didn’t even know the meaning of the word ignorant.

In these modern times, maybe Petalcingo is anxiously waiting for somebody to ask about its old days, or even only who will dare say hello or who wishes to visit it, as all those places who used to be witnesses or hosts of great events in days of yore, are still present as hardly remembered souvenirs: The cascade of Shayantz, the Mountain of Ahkabal-na which was the house of Senor Tatic Mamal and his daughter Goddess Shinula; the House of the Ghosts, where the sorcerers and witches went for supper at banquets; the region of the goblins; the great and torrential Jolpabuchil river with its amber stones and the famous Bobo Lagoon and its Haunted Bell. This is a magic place, mystic, quiet, relaxing, rural and picturesque, among hills, mountains and rivers. It was also said that Petalcingo was a territory controlled by the Senor Tatic Mamal.

Mamal means old person; Tatic indicates reverence, respect. Shinula refers to the mestizo ladies in town.

So then, I invite you so that we may travel together to the land of fantasies, to the mystery world of Tatic Mamal through Nicolas. But beforehand, come and drink a sour posol with us or have a drink of strong rum at the house of some medic sorcerer, so that you may have the strength and courage to see everything that is going to happen right from the first chapter of this book, till the day of the great encounter between my forebears and their future generations transformed into real Cashlans and Shinulas, just as they dreamed to become. They lived and died hoping to become one day Cashlans and Shinulas, but by 2100 my great great grandfathers will happily come to hug and kiss their modern great great grandchildren, and Lucas will come to deliver to Senor Tatic Mamal that old book that has been going around the world for about 200 years. And do not ask a Cashlan about this, because they don’t know anything about this Legend. These tales only belonged to the Tzeltals who lived in Petalcingo. No longer are alive those who could tell of the old happenings in this town. Those who told legends, mysteries, of appearances and other phenomena no longer exist; they all have disappeared from the map; now only I am here to tell you why the dreams of my forebears shall be granted you. Lucas! Yes, Lucas! He shall be chosen by Senor Tatic Mamal to honor and make true their memory.

All these events might have happened before or after this calendar, year 1900. Two hundred years back and two hundred years into the future. This is a story that has been adapted and written in a simple and clear way, based on the above mentioned facts.

Ahkabal means night, and Na means house. Both words together carry the meaning of: house awake at night. The title of this book originally comes from our language, the Tzeltal.

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1.

THE GHOST PRIEST

In this antique church of San Francisco de Assis, the patron saint of this town, countless marriages, baptisms and festivities in honor of almost all the saints whose images are kept in this church have been celebrated. Every religious event was carried out by the same indigenous people and on certain special occasions, they also organized big convivial parties at the resting hours, which consisted of abundant eating and drinking.

The priest came from Yajalon to say mass, but with time much of its cultural and traditional value with which we

were closely identified in those old